


Untitled 01

by analog_romeo



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Gore, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Vent Writing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-23
Updated: 2016-12-23
Packaged: 2018-09-11 08:02:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 824
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8971132
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/analog_romeo/pseuds/analog_romeo
Summary: “had to cut it all away; oh, but it felt great”





	

Nothing can compare to the feeling of a knife deeply fucking your eye.

The feeling of jealousy, burning, intense and acidic all the way from the lining of your stomach up to the brim of your throat. The thought of the demon who enticed you, the seductive touch of the fingers of his glove--on _someone else._ His dagger-like teeth ripping into _someone else._

It’s the feeling of wanting to puke out your feelings, to make your body numb of the envy that’s racking it, but finding it barren of anything but bile. Bile creeping up the same throat he’s fucked. The same throat his lying tongue has been down.

What else can you do when you can’t get into his head but get into his body? A good fuck won’t do anything. A good beating will only make him hard, maybe get him to rape you a little later on. Sometime in the night when it’s quiet and no one can hear you scream.

No one can hear you in the mindscape, anyway.

It’s not cheating if he doesn’t own you, anyway.

He never thought what he had with Bill was anything beyond sexual or physical. He never thought that what he had with Bill was exclusive to him and Bill. They weren’t an item. Demons probably didn’t even entertain the idea of being in a meaningful relationship, much less with a human.

Bill did what he did for pleasure. Not always sexual pleasure. He got off on watching humans suffer.

The knife pulls out of the mutilated socket and comes back in with such a strong driving force that you can hear it colliding with bone. No damage would be done when Dipper woke up. Everything in the mindscape was a head game. A pipe dream.

Dipper could never stay mad at Bill. He’d become addicted to the physical pain. It was a way to shut off the emotional pain.

They never made love. They only fucked.

Bill would fuck any orifice he could with whatever sharp object he desired. If he couldn’t find the right hole to fuck, he’d _make_ the hole. Today it was the eyes. Last time it was a gash to the stomach.

Dipper just let it happen. He’d stopped arguing. He’d stopped crying. Bill would use that against him.

The demon took the boy’s tongue between two fingers and pulled it hard, as far as it’d go. Dipper yelped out a breathy, desperate sound that was either pain or arousal. Neither of them cared which one it was.

Bill withdrew the knife from his victim’s eye and licked the gore off. Pulling the tongue taut he angled the shimmering edge to the side, then went away sawing the organ off with no mercy.

Dipper sobbed in a manner that resembled crying, but sounded too much like a mix of moaning and trying not to cry. It hurt. It hurt, it hurt, it hurt. But he loved it. He fucking _loved it._

The pain made him feel wanted. He’d rather feel wanted than face the biting reality of that fact that he was not Bill’s only. He would never be Bill’s only. _He wasn’t enough for him._

He was about halfway through tearing at the tough muscle, the blood pooling before spurting from a severed vein. Bill cackled madly. The sight of pulsing blood was hysterical.

Bill snapped the fingers of his free hand and Dipper’s clothes were gone, as if to add to the humiliation. In the mindscape, Bill could do whatever he wanted--and right now, he wanted Dipper to _suffer._

He could now easily see Dipper’s erection standing tall, bobbing up and down as it throbbed. It was a sight that made Bill laugh and Dipper whine. All he wanted was to be touched.

To feel loved.

And the closest he’d come was being naked as a demon cut through his tongue.

Finally the organ cut loose and broke free, causing Dipper--who was pulling backwards as he writhed--to fall hard to the ground. Bill laughed yet again, kicking him in the stomach while he was down.

Dipper couldn’t speak. He couldn’t say anything at all, even if he did have his tongue.

The demon brought himself down to Dipper’s level, both literally and figuratively. On the ground and lower than any creature that deserved the slightest ounce of dignity. In the most demeaning, condescending way possible, he smirked into the eye that he hadn’t gouged out.

He looked like he was about to say something, but he didn’t. He just stabbed the blood-adorned knife into Dipper’s other eye and left it there.

The boy could no longer see anything but black or feel anything but sharp, stinging pain. But he could hear Bill stifling a laugh, standing up, and walking away. The only thing left was to wait until he woke up, free of anguish and full of a new kind of hurt.


End file.
